


Stories.

by Cuthwyn



Series: Jayroy Week 2017 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Drug use ... if you squint, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, No bad touch I promise!, Scars, Sleepy Cuddles, Sort of body worship, more a grey area than actual dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuthwyn/pseuds/Cuthwyn
Summary: Not all stories are written down on paper. Some, are marked upon skin.Jason comes home a little more affectionate than usual.Roy rolls with it until the reason as to why Jason is so intimate becomes apparent, revealing a story Roy never expected.Jayroy Week 2017Day two: Marks





	Stories.

Stories.   
It could be argued that stories make up the very fabric of humanity. Each thread woven to create the tapestry of life itself. The world is full of stories and out of the billions of humans that exist within it, all of them have a story to tell. Their own personal existence in a world that is perceived so differently from any other person. Their own novel written not only by the spoken word or scratches on paper, parchment or stone, some stories exist through silence. Some stories are told not through the marks written down to create meaning but through marks written down on skin.

 

Jason heaved a staggered breath, his aching muscles straining beneath the weight of his partner, but he bore the burden without a second thought. Bloody hands gripping Harper’s uniform, ignoring the slick feeling that seeped through his gloves. The idiot had decided to take on a drug cartel on his own, but he was Jason's idiot and Jason was just relieved that he had got there in time to not be carrying a body right now. Heaving open the window to their apartment, Jason hauled Roy up into his arms like a maiden and carried him inside, biting back a pained groan as his ribs loudly protested.  
‘You're hurt.’ Roy mumbled, pushing away from Jason as soon as he was put down. Jason was more than a little worse for wear, battered and bruised and more than a little woozy but he could deal. Shaking his head he stepped closer to Roy and grabbed hold of him again before he wobbled over and fell.  
‘Yeah. Been in Gotham what d’ya expect.’ He replied, shifting Roy's weight back onto himself as they made their way towards the bathroom. ‘Fuck, you gotta cut back on the take out dude. How much did you eat while I was gone?’

Chuckling, Roy didn't complain when he was placed down on the toilet seat and just smiled up at his Jaybird fondly.  
‘You said I wasn't allowed in your kitchen? I hadda eat somehows. How's- how’s Timbo?’  
Jason grunted and ducked down to begin unlacing Roy's boots.  
‘Alive, parcelled him off to Dick. You're the one bleeding out so shut up and strip.’  
‘’S’just a scratch.’ Roy protested weakly, fully expecting the glare of disbelief thrown his way. After all, on the vigilante circuit, ‘just a scratch’ translated as just about avoiding losing a limb.  
Bit by bit, Arsenal was stripped away and Roy was left sitting on the toilet seat, watching blood drip from the deep gash in his thigh onto the linoleum below.  
‘’S’just a scratch.’ Roy mumbled sheepishly.  
Clicking his tongue, Jason collected what he needed and began to wash the wound before reaching for the needle to stitch up.  
‘Need ya glove to bite on?’  
‘No.’ Roy groaned, not even thinking twice about lifting his bottom off the toilet and shucking down his blood soaked boxer shorts. If there was one thing Roy and Jason could handle, it was pain. Physical or emotional it was just life, almost a steady thrum of normality in the chaotic mess of it.

Jason's breath caught in his throat at the sight of Roy, very much nude, there was so much skin, warm skin. His thoughts wandered and his vision slowly acquired a hazy, rosy frame around it.   
Coughing, he shook his head roughly to try and clear it and set about stitching Harper back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty.  
It wasn't too complicated an injury and before long, Jason was snapping the thread and testing his needle work to make sure it held.  
‘Jaybird? Are you humming Humpty Dumpty?’ Roy asked, raising a concerned eyebrow at the silent response. Jason swallowed, his hand still resting on Roy's thigh. It was so warm, life humming through veins, so alive and warm. Thoughtlessly, he trailed his hand upwards, over scars from other battles that had been fought, stretch marks, jagged like tiger stripes where thigh met hip. Evidence almost of how Roy had grown up too quickly.  
‘Jaybird?’ Roy gasped, blinking in surprise at teal eyes that were, oddly rather dilated. ‘Y-You okay?’  
Jason struggled to focus, he felt his cheeks warm and heat pooled in his belly, permeating slowly out, centring around his groin. A long, shaky breath escaped his lips as he nodded, eyes dropping back down to follow the path of his fingers, following the vein up to Harper’s groin, it was warm there too. One glance confirmed that his partner was at least physically reacting to a touch that pleased him. That wasn't the focus of Jason's attention though.

No, the rosy hue of his vision grew as fingertips brushed over marks he had learnt to read way before the alphabet. Small, dark scar tissue that could almost be mistaken for freckles. Track marks, the sure evidence of chronic intravenous drug use. Hidden out of sight below Roy’s belt, proof of his greatest weakness, yet simultaneously it was a secret message of strength. Sure they told a story of darkness and desperate isolation but the marks were faded and barely there. Old, because Roy had been strong, and it had been a long time since he had risked death by injecting into the femoral vein. A hand shot out and grabbed hold of his exploring fingers, stilling them. Glancing up, Jason studied Roy's face, the pain as old as the track marks, shame filling green eyes with tears.  
‘I-I can explain.’  
There was no need to explain. In all honesty it would have been intriguing for them not to be there, that Roy had never become that desperate to escape and hide all at the same time.  
Wordlessly, Jason leant closer and pressed his lips to the marks, a small groan leaving him without permission. Harper smelt like Harper strongest here, here Jason smelt safety, the warmth, proving to him that this was now.

It were as if he were running on autopilot, Jason ducked down and found more track marks on the tops of Roy's feet, hidden by socks and shoes, he ghosted a finger over those too, trailing up to find those in the crook of his elbows that were normally hidden by gloves and sleeves before pausing at the smattering of track marks lining the jugular vein, hidden by Arsenal’s collar and long hair. Harper's story, written in flesh but hidden in fear of the judgement of others, and quite possibly himself, Jason could relate.  
Roy had no choice but to just sit there and let Jason's fingers and mouth explore every inch of him. Jason's focus on his track marks had been disturbing, the touch almost painful somehow but he couldn't stop his partner. The way he moved, the slow, methodical path he was taking, the silent awe in his expression, the adoration, it were as if Roy was some sort of effigy and Jason falling to his knees in worship before him. Yes, Roy felt vulnerable and exposed but what was astonishing was how vulnerable Jason looked as well, the fact that Jason was allowing this was out of character. If there was one think Jason hated it was any portrayal of him being vulnerable.   
Jason's hands moved from the track marks to ghost over scars from his vigilante life, caressing the cuts and bruises he'd acquired tonight, lips kissing each and every one in turn until finally, Jason paused at five scars that marred his shoulder. 

Roy forgot how to breathe and shame overwhelmed him again, dragging his head down so as not to meet Jason's gaze, to see the worship in them disparate. As much as this was odd, Jason touching him like this, he didn't want the moment to end.  
For so long, Roy had hidden those, just like his track marks all they showed was a part of his life no one felt comfortable with, most avoiding his eyes and looking uncomfortable before leaving. Sometimes leaving words like ‘selfish’, ‘weak’ and the usual statement of ‘it’s your own fault’ and ‘get a grip’ to hover around him like flies.  
Jason however, maintained his sacred silence. He didn't ask where they came from, he knew. Killer Croc. Roy had slipped from one addiction to another, losing everything, the only answer he could see was just to relieve the people he loved of his sorry presence. Apparently Croc had a thing about not eating suicidals, maybe they tasted rotten? Roy had never thought to ask.  
Like the track marks, Jason didn't look at him in disgust or pity, just a wonder that interestingly held an almost innocence to it. His lips trailed over the jagged, rough scar tissue, slow to the point where it was almost sensual and Roy felt tears brim in his eyes. Finally reaching Roy's cheeks, Jason brushed away a stray tear with his thumb and just looked at Harper with such a raw awe. Roy felt like what Jason was seeing must surely be a lie.  
‘Your story.’ He uttered the words like a prayer before leaning down to softly kiss Roy's lips. ‘Mi cielo.’

Roy forgot how to use his words. Instead he stumbled up to his feet and kissed Jason back, his fingers fumbling with the zipper of Jason's jacket.  
‘Shower with me?’ Roy asked, his breath catching in his throat when Jason paused and blinked at him. He looked so damn beautiful right now, eyelids heavy with rosy cheeks, lips wet and slightly parted. Whatever this was, was so surreal, Jason being so open but maybe asking for company in the shower was too far and in the next moment, his Jaybird would be gone, leaving him alone.  
Jason stepped back with a new hesitation. His limbs trembling with what Roy could only assume was residual adrenaline, his eyes however seemed to have dilated so much they were practically black. Swallowing thickly, Roy went to ask again if Jason was alright, but the words died on his lips when fingers shakily stripped away Red Hood’s armour. Each item falling to the ground with a thrump that was deafening in the heady silence. Inch by inch, Jason's sun kissed skin was revealed. Skin that held a story of its own.  
Silently, Jason stepped around Roy and turned on the water and ducked beneath the spray, beckoning for his partner to join him. There was no way in any universe that Roy was staying stood on the bath mat like an idiot.

Roy always felt honoured to see Jason's scars, even the first time when the dude had been unconscious. Even taking off his shirt was big deal, for Roy it was uncomfortable, but Jason would rather bleed out than reveal himself like that. It was probably due to the reactions of his loved ones, Roy got it, especially when Dick looked like he wanted to cry every time. Tim had mentioned before how they all had their fair share of scarring but Jason's were just so much more brutal. Roy however never felt any of that, instead he felt cherished to be given such a huge amount of trust. Lifting his hand, he stroked a thumb over the small scar on Jason's forehead, from a first fall out with Bruce or something, and smiled at Jason's confused expression.  
‘You gotta story to tell too, Jaybird.’ He said, the words hovering in the air like the steam and Jason shivered.   
Roy felt honoured to see Jason without the protection of his clothes, but to be allowed to quietly explore his skin, to touch and kiss every mark left behind by some bastard, Roy felt like the luckiest man in the universe.  
Slowly, making his way to Jason's torso, Roy touched a scar that was a great taboo and he felt abdominus muscles tighten with a soft moan. Glancing down, he followed the scar tissue all the way down to Jason's groin, before his fingers followed the line up to where it forked off at the notch just below his Adam’s apple to reach behind each earlobe. Jason's autopsy scar. There was no point in telling Jason that he wasn't going to hurt him, words said too often but always proved fruitless, why would now be any different? 

‘Am I gonna hurt ya, Jaybird?’ Roy deadpanned, leaving his hand in place, he lifted his gaze to catch his partner’s eye.  
‘No.’Jason practically breathed, hesitantly resting a hand where Roy's was on his abdomen. ‘I refuse to eat your cooking.’  
Snorting, Roy leant forwards and braved a kiss to Jason's sternum. His other hand drifting to Jason's back to feel the flash burn there, proof of how his Jaybird always put himself second.  
Jason's short life was full of trauma and pain and his fingers trailing over his forearms revealed the result. An agglomeration of straight lines, varied in length and thickness but all spoke the same story. All were precise and deliberate but to Roy, he didn't see weakness, he saw someone desperate to survive and willing to do anything to ensure that, even hurting himself.  
Without a word, his fingers slid down between Jason's legs and his heart ached to feel sutures there. Another line to join the many others. He was lucky enough to have found a way to navigate the darkness, Jason sometimes still got lost but that was okay, Roy didn't mind taking his hand and showing him the way home.  
‘H-Harper, please don't be mad.’   
Shaking his head, Roy brushed the water out of Jason's eyes and kissed him deeply, groaning when he felt Jason press himself closer.   
‘Not mad, never mad.’ Roy gasped, ducking down to nibble his partner’s earlobe. ‘I love you.’

The water had long since run cold when Roy managed to manoeuvre them out. Not once parting from their exploration of the other as they made an awkward waltz to bedroom and fell down on the bed. Jason would bitch about wet sheets in the morning, but this was now, and no one cared enough to pause their soothing caresses. Jason moaned into Roy's collar bone, grinding lightly onto Roy’s uninjured thigh, as they lay together on their sides. There was something cathartic about being this close to Roy, to feel his skin against his own, warm and just so fucking alive. Eventually, the caresses slowed to heavy, sedate strokes, lazily following scars and drawing patterns. Jason twitched a little when Roy’s finger trailed down past his navel. It felt weird, mainly because he could actually feel the finger rather that he knew it was there. Noticing his discomfort, Roy diverted away and skimmed his hand over Jason's hipbone before resting on his buttock. There was an odd lump. 

Frowning, he coaxed Jason over to lie on his stomach and scooted down to take a closer look. It was where intramuscular injections were usually given. The veins and capillaries around it were a worrying green colour. Jason grunted and let out a pained whimper when Roy prodded at the lump before extracting a small thorn.  
The world ground to a halt and the warmth in Roy’s belly turned icy cold. Jason's odd, overly intimate and affectionate behaviour started to slot into place and Roy suddenly felt rather ill.   
‘It's a thorn Jaybird. Are you feeling okay? Did- God Jason, did you see Poison Ivy?’  
Groaning, Jason nestled into the pillows beneath him and let out a long, sleepy sigh, apparently oblivious to his partner’s distress.  
‘Pam? Yeah. She was on one but I dealt with it. Feels so good.’  
Swallowing thickly, Roy rolled the thorn around in his hand. Everything that had happened this evening was a lie and he couldn't help but feel a misplaced betrayal. Jason hadn't meant any of this.

‘I'm so sorry, Jaybird.’ Roy said, tears dropping onto his cheeks. Wiping them away, he quenched down his own feelings and made to get out of bed. ‘Wait there. I’ll go get the antidote.’  
A hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, halting his racing thoughts in an instant. Jason was now sat up, eyes hazy but focused as he shook his head with a small smile.  
‘No. S’kay Harper, don't waste it. Pam she don't, she don't dose me like that. Not after I called her out for being a rapist. She just, I still have my autonomy and shit, I just, fuck I feel so good and I don't-‘ inhaling sharply, Jason closed his eyes before reopening them and reaching out to stroke Roy's cheeks.  
‘This doesn't frighten me. None of it matters. Just you. Wanting you and feeling good and nothing else matters.’   
Roy blinked and looked far from impressed, dropping his hand, Jason sighed and looked away shamefully.  
‘I shoulda told ya, but I knew you'd worry. I don't need the antidote, I'm still me Harper, and until it where's off? I can be normal, the noise in my head has gone. It's not like I went out looking for it, namean? I'd rather me getting dosed than Timmy. I'm still me, Roy.’

Roy sat in silence for a long moment before taking hold of Jason's chin and tilting his face up towards the light, studying his eyes intently. They were dilated yes, but deep within them, something that was still wholly his Jaybird. He believed him when he said he hadn't gotten himself horny and high on purpose, with his past and who he was going home to, Roy knew deep down that Jason wouldn't do something like that. Roy also knew Pamela Isley well enough to know she wouldn't play at someone's dealer either.  
‘Okay.’ He said finally, allowing Jason to wrap himself around him like a koala once more. It was weird, thinking that this would be Jason if all the bullshit in his life had never happened. ‘Okay, lets just do this though? Yeah? No sex.’  
Jason nodded and nestled them both into a small cocoon of blankets with a contented hum.  
‘Yeah. Don't wanna do that. Too much. Just wanna cuddle.’  
Whelp, who was Roy to deny Jason, who was actually asking for cuddles for once?

An hour or so later found Jason snoring into his pillow with Roy keeping a silent vigil above him. He trailed a finger over his Jaybird’s buttock, the veins still slightly green and a small entry wound was now scabbing over. A new mark to go with the others.   
There was more to this story.  
Some marks told a story between two people unknown to the rest of the world.  
Jason called Poison Ivy ‘Pam’.  
Jason only gave nicknames to those he made a connection with.


End file.
